Spiral
by Animako
Summary: Abandoned. Kitty's attempts to start a second resistance, one to break the cycle, fail, and she finds herself left alone. Can she find help in the least likely of places? Where one person could not change things, could two make a difference?
1. Chapter 1

Spiral

Bartimaeus Trilogy belongs to the esteemed Jonathon Stroud and very grateful I am to him for writing it. It's not mine.

Sorry to Jonathon Stroud, whose name I spelt wrong. Oh well, I doubt he reads fanfics of his own books.

Thanks to Swordsrock for being pedantic and pointing out my mistakes, I listened and reposted it without them.

Thanks to Blinded One.

Kitty's attempts to start a second Resistance, one to break the cycle, fail, and she finds herself left alone. Can she find help in the least likely of places? Where one person could not change things, could two make a difference? Not KittyxNathaniel.

The room was lit by one candle, the light flickering and casting complex shadows. It couldn't quite reach the corners of the room, and the open curtains were beginning to let in light of their own as midnight turned to morning.

Kitty sat curled up in a deep armchair, holding the candle in one hand and a heavy book in the other. Every so often she would shift and look something up in another book, or scribble notes on a pad in illegible handwriting.

She leaned and put the books down on the floor, the sudden movement throwing shadows dancing all across the room. That was it. She had all she needed.

For the past two and a half years, Kitty had been quietly teaching herself all she needed to summon a de_(here she stopped her thoughts in their tracks to correct the lapse in courtesy to the creatures)_ spirit.

First learning Latin from children's books at the library she was employed, then stealing books half at random and painstaking translating them to find what she needed. The basics of a magician's craft.

She now knew everything she needed to summon a djinni. Except a name. _I have a name already: Bartimaeus. _The thought sent a thrill of anticipation down her spine. A commoner such as herself, cheating Mandrake of his slave.

She had convinced herself in lieu of other evidence that anyone could become a magician, or use their magic _(although from what she knew it was not _their _magic at all, it was the despirit's magic) _but was not quite a hundred per cent sure, whatever she'd told the others.

She didn't want to think about the others.

Getting up and pacing the room. Restless. Think, then, Kitty: what would the Resistance have said to it? They'd be unanimously opposed. They hated anything they considered to be a 'demon' as much as they hated magicians.

Anne might give the idea a chance, think it over at least. But more likely she'd say using their magic against them was corrupt.

Maybe it is. But I won't use their magic against them. Not like in the old days, lobbing Elemental Spheres. I won't make Bartimaeus do anything, not give him _(is Bartimaeus a boy? _stupid thing to be thinking about now anyway Kitty, get back on track) orders like Mandrake did.

_What'll you do then?_ Asked the pedantic side of her brain.

_Summon him, then say he can do what he likes._ Answered the other side.

_Mightn't he be happier doing what he like in his own home, wherever that is? Besides, what if he 'likes' to kill people who summon him?_

She stopped pacing. In this small room, you ended up going in circles. Kitty had been doing a lot of pacing since moving here, and she knew when it was time to stop unless you wanted to fall over your own feet.

He can go home, if he wants. And, if he wants to kill me then… _(she got up, and with little regard to her health, began pacing again)_

So be it. I have little enough left to live for. This is a last resort.

She had become increasingly disillusioned over the last few years. The second Resistance had at first been a roaring success, with ambitions building to start splinter groups, and with twenty members recruited in the first month.

Despite the success they had considered themselves careful, and Kitty knew that they had been better concealed than the first Resistance had. However, that had not been good enough.

A moment of carelessness had been all that had done for them. One of the young members had walked home alone from the meeting, and overheard two people discussing rebel groups and their support of them.

He had, of course, tried to recruit them. Not having the gift of sight, he had not been able to tell that they were demons _(the memory distressed Kitty; she overlooked the name) _indisguise.

Under the threat of torture, he had revealed all he knew about the Resistance, and the members had been rounded up within a day.

Except Kitty. She had given a false false name (she operated under a false name everyday; but this was another layer of deception). She had given the name of one of her counterparts in the library, having thought of it on the spot after being seen leaving the library in uniform when recruiting the first resistance member.

She had become used to operating under a false name, and, liking the name "Sarah Harrod", had never corrected the recruit.

Of course, the real Sarah Harrod, matching the role of a library based insurgent, was killed in public.

This crime, more than anything else she'd done, sickened Kitty. She had almost turned herself in to the authorities, and almost left in a last suicide mission to avenge the girl.

She hadn't, of course. Her resolve wavered: I can achieve greater things.

The memory of Sarah shifted the internal battle. _If Bartimaeus kills me, so be it. Heavens, I've thought enough that I deserve to die for my sins._

_And if he doesn't_, thought Kitty, gathering her notes and the thieved magician's equipment and rereading the notes. _I've avenged you_.

_No. I will never avenge you unless I take my own life. I will have avenged the others of the Resistance, but your death is a burden I will bear all my life._

She broke the train of thought, focused on the task she had set herself.

Drew the pentacle. Spoke the words. She felt dizzy, as if each syllable of the ancient incantation was taking something of her with it as it left her mouth.

Nothing appeared to happen.

Failure had hardly figured in Kitty's mind. She had thought of a chance that the summons might be wrong and not force Bartimaeus to do what she wanted it to do, but she had hardly considered the chance it might not appear at all.

The ground covered by the pentacle exploded upwards _(although a part of Kitty's shocked mind noticed that the ground beneath it was carpeted again, and the rubble vanished as it hit the ground) _and a creature emerged from the ground

It looked like a very large, very savage, dog. With huge claws. With a mane of fire. Kitty remembered just in time that she mustn't leave the pentacle she was standing in. She was very scared.

A few seconds later common sense kicked in. This had to be Bartimaeus, because no other de_spirit _could have been called, since she had used his name. It was only a different shape. He had the power to change his appearance. She had seen him do it before.

She became aware she was standing staring like an idiot, and also that he was staring at her as much as she was at him.

"K_itty Jones!"_

The creature had a look of incredible shock on its face that Kitty started laughing.

"You _are_ Kitty! Why are _you _summoning _me?"_

Kitty controlled herself.

"I wanted to see if I could. I've proved it. Magicians have nothing commoners don't." She smiled.

"You couldn't have proved that by summoning anyone else?" Bartimaeus sounded grumpy, leaning against the invisible wall formed by the pentacle.

"Sorry" Kitty murmured, suddenly very aware of how easy it would be for Bartimaeus to kill her "I wanted to prove it. And. If you don't want to listen to what I have to say, you can go."

"Actually, I can't." he gestured with a clawed hand at the pentacle on the floor, leaned back on hind legs against an invisible wall. "Sorry to destroy the illusion of equality and all that. Master/Slave thing, remember?"

Kitty, acting on impulse, stepped back out of the pentacle she was standing in. Bartimaeus fell backwards, losing the support from the pentacle wall that had held him in.

"I could kill you and you'd have no power to stop me." Bartimaeus sounded very confused, and suddenly not at all like an evil demon.

Kitty remembered: the Egyptian boy in the library looking at her out of the corner of his eye, a small smile playing across his face. No malice in his look._ You know, I've enjoyed our little conversation. I hope they don't order me to kill you._

Maybe the creature facing her was remembering the same thing. The dog-beast faded and became the lithe form of the Egyptian boy.

"I'll listen to you then." Immediately, as if he regretted the simplicity of that statement: "But no promises"

Kitty nodded. A tenuous alliance had been formed. Looking ahead, she found a glimmer of hope for the future.

They could break the cycle.

At least, they had a chance of breaking it. A fragile thread in a web of hopes.

Better than nothing.

Mako.

Do you like? It was going to be a oneshot, because I love Bartimaeus fics and there aren't enough; besides, noones written anything about Kitty summoning Bartimaeus. I like Kitty/Nathaniel, swordsrock, but there are loads plenty of those out there.

Sorry if Kitty is OOC, but this is a weird idea born of insomnia and I posted as soon as I'd finished before I could change my mind about it all.

I'm writing the next chapter, but it most likely won't be up for a while 'cause I'm going away to France of a fortnight. Yay!


	2. Chapter 2

OK. Sorry for the huge delay in updating, and me not having proof-read this (I wanted to hurry post because it was so late). I got back from my holiday to find I had a huge amount of work to do. I know, bad excuse.

Thankyou everyone for reviewing, I've tried to R and R your stories, and if I haven't I will or I don't know the fandom (whatever it's called)

Lastly, I could really do with a **beta reader**, people start running but as I am new to ff-net I don't know really how this works. Any volunteers?

And this is my explanation of what I said about Ptolemy/Bartimaeus/Kitty last chapter, which I don't think I made clear…

I can't be asked to find it and copy out quotes, so go and look if you don't know what I'm talking about, but Bartimaeus refers in the books several times to Ptolemy having not commanded him and they obviously were good friends, but he died young. What would have happened if he'd lived?

Just things like that make me at least want to write about it, but I don't know any ancient history so I'm using Kitty. I like Kitty, and it's not totally implausible. I'm not saying anything like this will happen, but it could…

And as to whether it will be KittyxBartimaeus, I don't know. I don't think so (he isn't human, and I only refer to him as a he by default) but it won't be NatKitty because although I have nothing against NatKitty but I can't see how I could write it in with the plot I have planned at the moment.

Sorry for going on for so long, and hello again to everyone that pg-downed that part.

Spiral - 2

"Well then" Bartimaeus said once he'd got bored of waiting for her to say something "what do we do, o great leader?"

Kitty walked to the armchair and slumped down in it, kicking the pile of notes under the chair. She felt stupidly self-conscious about the room's messiness, despite the fact her rational mind knew that the djinni probably cared even less than she did about whether a room was tidy or not. She kicked her mind back onto the subject at hand.

"Um... Well, for one, I'm not going to be the leader of this thing. You're probably smarter than me, and- "

"No 'probably' about it, darling" he said, grinning.

"But I was _going _to say you wouldn't be able to take part in a group such as the Resistance. For one, any group like that would have someone that can see you on the seventh plane" _ha! I said a clever thing, I know how many planes there are…what is a plane anyways? _"and besides, they'd probably kick you out anyway for being a smartarse."

She couldn't help smirking a little at the look on his face. _You're not the only one who can make sarky comments, 'darling'. _Next second, she remembered that she needed him on her side, and she had given him freedom to leave if he wanted too.

He shrugged.

"That's no explanation of why you brought me here. You have to have some kind of plan."

_Remember, do not start a slanging match, Kitty. Besides, he (is he even a he?) has _years_ more experience at slagging people off. Think of a plan. Any plan, you can change it later._

"OK. Well. I think I should try and start another Resistance. Maybe you could help by finding out about people who are resilient, I dunno. But you could" _brainwave! _"Start a version of the Resistance among de—Spirits!"

Bartimaeus looked doubtful.

"I told you before that we had given up hope, were resigned to be ruled by magicians. Besides, none of us in this world has free will to be terrorists, remember?"

Kitty looked at the floor. _Stupid to overlook that. _It had seemed like a good idea at the time.

"_find out about people who are resilient… _Can I go round and attack them? No. Seriously. I could go and find out… It would be easy to find out about humans with resistance to our magic. I could do that."

_Why not?_ Thought Kitty.

"As long as you don't go round attacking them, I guess. What do you suggest we do long term?"

She felt herself slipping into the role of a leader. Not the Kitty of the first Resistance, continually fighting for her tenuous post as leader, but the Kitty of the short-lived Second Resistance: a true leader, explaining her strategies and asking opinions of her people, teaching them how to lead, or at best how to survive.

But it hadn't worked.

Luckily Bartimaeus replied before she could sink into self-pity.

"You make a New Resistance, I guess." He became silent in thought, looking out of the window at the moon, which hung low at this late hour. Kitty looked out too. She could see the sky lightening, and felt very aware that she hadn't slept since last dawn; very snug in her armchair.

Bartimaeus eventually looked away from the window, examining the room he was in. Normally his surroundings were the first thing the djinni would look at after being summoned, but the shock of seeing who had called him up had startled him out of his routine.

The room was dominated by the armchair the girl was sat in: it was clearly Kitty's headquarters. It was not a particularly nice armchair; beige with a pattern of faded flowers, it was covered in stains and general signs of wear and tear.

Beside the armchair was a coffee table (A/N is that the word?), which had been pushed to one side to make room to draw the pentacles for the summoning. Laying on it were sheets of notes, doodles and diagrams and several volumes Bartimaeus recognised, which between them covered the basics of summoning djinn.

There were more books, mainly dictionaries; notes; various food wrappers and drinks cartons, plates, cutlery and clothes strewn around the room. A mattress lay on the floor, bereft of a quilt (he noticed this on the armchair, wrapped around Kitty).

There was no carpet, but a series of rugs in varying styles, and the wallpaper was peeling slightly, but this had been concealed with a series of posters of some people, presumably celebrities, that Bartimaeus didn't recognised

Overall the room was possibly the most rundown place he had visited that someone actually lived in.

Having finished the inspection, which took longer than a regular inspection of a magician's house, owing to contrast, Bartimaeus looked over at Kitty. To his shock, she had fallen asleep.

He got up and walked to in front of her, wondering what to do. Wake her up?

He would have, but he stopped to look at her. The were great bags under her eyes, and her face was sallow. Summoning him (without any training, or help!) must have taken its toll on her, and combined with lack of sleep and stress from being wanted by the government (again) it was too much for her.

How would they bring down the government with Kitty in this state?

What to do? Wait around until she woke up? Even whilst she slept, keeping up the summoning took her energy. With a magician this was fine, but they were different. An alliance.

He'd do what they'd been agreeing on. Scope out people with magical resistance. It wouldn't be hard, just boring, because ask (read: beat the beep out of until they tell you) any old imp/foliot/djinni.

Four hours and much investigating later…

Kitty had awoken maybe twenty minutes before, to find the djinni gone. Initial panic aside, she had decided there was nothing she could do about it. Hopefully he'd gone back home, thinking she was useless. Either that or he was rampaging like the afrit Honarius (she shivered involuntarily) had done.

She had tried to resign herself to the facts. He had gone, and there was nothing she could do about it. Her hopes and fears had been focused on this plan, more than she could admit to even herself.

Since talking to Bartimaeus when he'd kidnapped her, she had begun to believe deeply she could change the future, and that demons did not have to be just tools of the magicians. They were all trapped in a spiralling repetition of the past, and only an alliance could break them free.

She had felt depression close over her, threw one of the stolen books across the room, and kicked the table.

That was when Bartimaeus flew through the open window.

It took her a while to register that this bird (she had never known bird's names, but it looked like a kind of predator) had not randomly decided to fly into someone's room and chosen her. In fact, it took her until the bird spoke.

"Any particular reason you're throwing things around?"

"Eheh… Bartimaeus!"

"Nah, the other talking bird you summoned"

She was so relieved she burst out laughing, not at the djinni's sarcasm as such, more at the fact that she hadn't failed.

Bartimaeus shifted into the boy's form, giving her a strange look. She blushed, then felt even more stupid.

_Time to go on the offensive, Kitty._

"Where did you vanish off too?" She regretted the aggressive tone as soon as the words left her mouth.

"I was worried" she muttered. She never had been able to apologise.

"I have identified two commoners with magical resilience. He bent down, picked up a pen and scrawled two names and addresses on a sheet of notes, handing them to her.

"Kitty. You are not going to be able to keep me here and start a new Resistance. I don't know if you learnt any theory from those books" _and I doubt it, _he thought "but you are effectively holding me in this world, which is putting you under pressure.

"Then… could you do something in wherever it is you go to when you're not here?"

He nodded, curious of the look on her face, which suggested she'd been thinking of this for a long time.

"Find out…Find out history. How we got into this situation. Why?"

She had been looking at the carpet, but she looked him in the eyes now.

"I'll try and start the New Resistance… shall I?"

"I guess" he nodded, seeming awkward. He probably didn't often talk sincerely.

"Summon me in a year, or… well whenever." He shrugged, glancing from her to the floor and back, finally to looking her in the eyes "I, erh, well. You've convinced me now, convinced me we can change things. I… hope we can."

_Well, this is awkward…_Thought Kitty, _but hey, I convinced him!_

"Thanks, Bartimaeus." She meant it wholeheartedly.

The next second he was gone, leaving nothing behind.

_OK, Kitty, get to work._

A/N: well, second chappie done. I hope this is as well received as the first. There will be more action and new characters in the next chapter, which will be a year later on. And Nathaniel may make an appearance…

Please, review, that button's just crying out to be clicked. If you think it's between ok and good but don't know what to write, write "Teapot".

Come on, you know you want to.

Mako


	3. Chapter 3

OK. I've gotta say thankyous, first of all. Thanks everyone who's reviewed, you've made a little teapot very happy (obscure injoke that's nothing to do with teapot meaning gay, btw), but thanks nost of all to IgnotusVeritas (I dunno how to add a link to her profile, but I would if I could).

This chappie's a little slow on that action, and the characters may seem OOC. Don't worry, it'll all change soon enough, so bear with me please. And Kitty will be less depressed next chapter! Yay!

Inventive Disclaimer: one mint

**_One year later:_**

Kitty felt an overwhelming amount of apprehension, of tension, building inside her as she stepped into the pentacle once more. The studies of magic that had so fascinated her before had been neglected since her successful summoning of Bartimaeus a year back, and the notes she had taken so diligently had taken her hours to understand once more.

She had scrawled them in a rather confusing shorthand, partly to keep them from giving away what she was doing in her spare time, and partly because she had been consumed by such a hunger to learn she'd not wanted to stop and make notes.

She hoped Bartimaeus would answer her.

** Bartimaeus**

I guess I'd lost track of the time, but it didn't seem like a whole year had passed. The girl had said a year, right? That was what I thought as I felt the summons.

I'd been so surprised to see that she, a commoner, had successfully called forth an entity of my power; I hadn't noticed how powerful a magician she was. This time I made a point of it.

She seemed to be making the summoning work by sheer stubbornness. She was obviously reading out of a book, but at least she'd learned how to pronounce the Sumerian words (or she'd copied the incantation down phonetically) correctly, and she hadn't managed to mess the spell up by stuttering.

I wondered what I'd do if she did mess up. After all, I was on her side (pretty much). I couldn't just kill her.

There was a look of relief on her face when I appeared, not bothering to take a fearsome form, but before we get on to facial expression lets look at how Kitty's changed over the time (yes, it was she who had summoned me… why would I have said all that otherwise? . . . Foolish mortals).

She was still short, only a head taller than Ptolemy, whose form I was wearing; but her hair had grown. Now, I'm no expert, but it looked as if it hadn't been styled since last time I saw her, a year ago. It was getting ragged around the ends. Well, at least it wasn't greasy like a certain Nat—

That was when a brainwave struck me. _Nathaniel! _He had told me when he'd summoned me that I couldn't tell anyone or anything his birth name, covering all the implications. All except one.

After the end of my service to him I could reveal his name to anyone I pleased.

Now, you may ask why I didn't think of this before, when I was enjoying my freedom in the Other Place. If you ask me this then you clearly don't understand the Other Place. It's a place, you see, that magicians can't touch; can't comprehend.

The only place, nowadays.

And in the Other Place, you see, we spirits can forget them and our servitude. I can't explain it, not to humans such as yourselves; but a commoner at least should be able to understand this: it's where we go to escape. And while we're there we don't strategize or scheme, and not even the most mendacious, duplicitous, conniving djinni spends its time of rest thinking on the terms of past bondages there.

Well, that was hard to explain.

I was so full of this idea I forgot about how Kitty had changed. We opened our mouths to speak at the same time, and I fell silent like the obedient slave I have never been.

I was shocked at how naturally this came.

"I'm so glad you came" the relief on Kitty's face shocked me, even more than my seeming subservience had. Would she see it as subservience, or common courtesy?

"Why?" I walked over to her, somewhat surprised that the pentacle didn't pen me in. I'd think about why that was later, because I wanted to listen to Kitty's explanation.

The battered armchair was still there, but there was also a small table with three chairs, and Kitty sat on one of these. I sat opposite her, and peered at her with my head tilted to the side.

Let's get back to how she's changed.

Her clothes were and still are nondescript, but they seemed specially chosen to be that way. The main difference was her face, never fat, was gaunt to the point of being almost emaciated, although she still looked like she could take care of herself in a scrap.

Or it could just be the silver daggers stuck into her belt.

Well, back to the story.

"It's the Resistance. The new one." She took a deep breath "From the start then. It got going fine, 'cause there's a whole load of people interested on in taking the magicians down, there has been ever since the Golem incident.

"But it's just not been the same as the others, not had the same spark. I think … we haven't got the same motivation. I've really only been holding on in the hope that you could sort it all out. It's stupid really, but…

"Can you…?"

I was amazed. I'd never imagined that someone so determined as Kitty would rely on someone else to sort her problems out.

She must have seen that I was… I dunno, what? Disgusted, I suppose. I felt like shaking her out of her depressed self-pity.

I stopped myself.

"Leave if you want." Her voice was bleak, emotionless.

"Get. Yourself. Together!" I hit the table with each word.

She flinched back with the shock. There was a long silence.

Finally, she nodded.

"OK, take a deep breath, Kitty. Strategy. Plans. What to do…" She said to herself. Taking a deep breath, she said:

"OK. Bartimaeus, report what you've found out, if you've found out anything."

So I told her the part about Na—no, he's not little helpless Nathaniel anymore - Mandrake's birth-name.

Then, I got to what I'd researched in the Other Place. This was not a lot. Researching things is never my strong point. I can't think of why…

"I've found out one thing - no-one knows our history. And another thing - no-one knows your history. Not really. What you learn at school, that our people roamed free before the Mages summoned a meteor which banished us to the Other Place, is either a lie or it was so long ago that none of us remember it."

I hung my head, somewhat ashamed of myself for not knowing more. Kitty had curled up, hugging her knees, frowning and looking intently at a doodle that was pinned on the wall. It looked like a squiggle to me.

"I think we should go radical." Kitty said suddenly "Come and meet the New Resistance… I hope they don't kill you on sight"

I shifted in my seat. I didn't find the idea of being introduced to people who had been brought up to hate and fear 'demons' (and trained to kill them, don't forget) very inviting. Particularly as most of them would have natural resilience.

Kitty seemed to sense my thoughts, perhaps by noticing the displeasure on my face.

"I was just the same as them, and I'm getting along fine with you. Besides, what else shall we do? Take down the government on our own?"

Her tone brooked no debate.

I got up as she began phoning numbers.

"Meeting at Prearranged Site Nine, Prearranged Time Two. Tell Phoenix and Luke; tell them this is the just the core group."

She repeated this with a speed that spoke of long practice (not with the same names, of course. How could you think that? How thick can you get?), until she pulled her shoes on and gestured for me to follow. I'd been standing around uselessly, wondering how long it would take to dissuade them from killing me or whether there'd even be any time for it.

Morbid, I know.

anagram #7

See you next time (hopefully)

A round of applause for Ignotus, please waits expectantly

Now, go and talk to that blue button, it's feeling lonely…


	4. Chapter 4

Finally, an update! (people gasp and faint) Hopefully I'll be updating every two weeks from now on, at least. This chapter's an experiment; it's all from Bartimaeus's POV. I might or might not write more as him, I'll see how it goes.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed, and as always to Ignotus Veritas.

Oh, and can anyone tell me why Quickedit deletes asterisks (the little star thingys at the top of the screen, in case they're called something else in american), or are they only deleted in preview? It's annoying. (it deleted the angrysmiley that I puthere too)

Enjoy!

Kitty told me as we left her flat that it wasn't a long walk to the meeting place, which of cause made me ask were the meeting place was. She told me it was a secret.

Is it me, or would anyone curious enough to listen to our conversation just follow us to the oh-so-secret meeting place?

So we walked in silence for a bit, me looking around at the area. It was similar to the slum that Kitty's parents' house and her friend Jakob had lived. A tip, in other words. I also noticed that no-one said anything to Kitty, despite the fact it was a fairly busy slum. I began listing reasons:

One: Kitty only just moved here;

Two: Kitty is antisocial;

Three: Everyone is antisocial here;

Four: Kitty has a bad reputation

Five: I'm scaring them off, what wit—

"OK, stop sulking. We need to talk about" she paused for about two seconds and then ran through a list, and I mean ran through:

"How to introduce you to the guys; what your alias will be; what plans we'll propose; who you'll work with-"

"Alias? Why do I need an alias?"

"Just because you're not human doesn't mean you have to flaunt it, Barty"

She was… smirking. There was no other word for it. Not an evil smirk, just like she was laughing at me. I realised my expression was stuck half way between disbelief and anger and changed it back to normal (cynical, if you want to be precise)

"Barty?" I said. I think my contempt was lost on her.

"Yes, Barty. We're nearly there; so, next item on the agenda: introductions. Stefan can see you as you are, watch out for him. Even if they attack you, strike back and everything's lost. Got that?"

I nodded, wondering if this was how Kitty talked to her little Resistance group. Maybe they're stupid, but I'm not.

"What does Stefan look like then? Or I won't know who he is"

"I'd guess he'll be the one staring at you in horror"

"Duh. I mean--"

"This is the meeting place."

Well, she'd got bossier- sorry, more authoritive, over the years. And it worked, as well, I suddenly realised. I had not made even one sarky comment. Not one. Compared to my attitude to Mandrake, this change of attitude could be called a miracle.

Well, lets have a look at the Resistance.

Djinn have better eyesight than humans, so I had the advantage of seeing them before they could see us. A group of six; four men and a woman, with another girl walking over to join them as I watched. They were looking around, and trying to hide it. They seemed nervous, but managed to conceal it, and all in all did a pretty good job of looking like they belonged here.

We walked over too them, Kitty walking faster than she needed to, and me tagging behind. I was not looking forward to this meeting, strangely enough.

As Kitty had said, I could tell which of them could see me. A blond boy with long, straight hair hanging in front of his face. His eyes were startlingly dark compared to his hair and complexion, and were wide open, staring at me.

It was lucky he was the one who could see me. He clearly didn't know what to do, cowering, panicked. One of the girls looked at him – Stefan, Kitty had said his name was – with concern, and then at me in sudden understanding.

I rolled my eyes. Kitty started telling them something, but she ran at me, dived forward; I saw, too late, flashes of metal in her hands.

I grabbed her wrists, she twisted and ducked (she was strong, for a human girl-child) pulled one hand free. I felt a flash of pain across my shoulder, ignored it, slammed into the girl, using leverage to knock her to the ground despite Ptolemy's slight form.

I pulled the silver daggers from her hands and threw them aside, not far enough she'd have to search for them, but too far for anyone to get them back without me noticing. Grabbing them off her made blisters all across the palms of my hands, but I knew enough about human ideals of respect that I didn't want Kitty to help me.

Kitty had managed to control the rest of the group, and I listened to a basic explanation of why I was here (conspicuously missing was the fact that Kitty had summoned me). The girl who'd attacked me was dusting herself down angrily.

I spoke up when she made a move towards where the daggers had fallen, speaking to Kitty but not taking my eyes off my attacker.

"I'll turn around and go if any of your people threaten me again." I made the statement completely flat. Your people. A calculated insult. I wouldn't suck up to them.

"No-one's going to attack you now. Ciara, put your daggers away, we could all get arrested for carrying weapons

"Now, are we agreed we won't attack 'Barty'?" I had never met a human who could pronounce inverted commas as well as Kitty could "Good. OK, lets discuss our current plans. We have Barty as an ally for now, how can he help our strategy?..."

She kept talking, basically trying to get them to say how I could be of a help. I knew what she was doing: making them realise how useful I was.

Ciara, the girl who'd attacked me, had one hand on one of the concealed knives she'd attacked me with. Her eyes kept flicking over to me, and when I caught her looking she looked straight at me.

She looked angry, and I grinned at her, knowing it would infuriate her. Maybe I was letting Kitty boss me around, but I could piss off this little wannabe-warrior as much as I wanted.

The others were staying away from me, obviously scared of what was probably the only 'demon' they'd ever met as anything other than an enemy. Silly, they wouldn't be as nervous if I was trying to kill them. Where's the sense in that?

I had been daydreaming, I suppose. It was almost relaxing, being on Earth without any charge, as such; not nearly as nice as the Other Place, but that couldn't be helped.

"Demons!"

I recognised Stefan's voice, and checked the planes for myself. A routine patrol of foliots were fast approaching on the forth plane.

I moved ahead of the Resistance, which was in a semi-panic trying to find its weapons, and shot down the first of the foliots with a well-placed Detonation. The second fell with a silver knife in its throat; I looked back to see Stefan aiming a second throwing knife.

The collective Resistance was managing to pull itself together, but it was clear they couldn't fight without seeing their opponents.

Or maybe they could. Ciara the violent was leaping to where we had aimed and slashing around like a manic, which was surprisingly effective.

Kitty had a knife and was waiting for an attacker to give away its location, and the others were, as far as I could tell, pursuing similar strategies. I left them to it, returning to the fight.

It became clear this was not a normal patrol. For one, there were far more of the damn creatures than on a normal patrol. And normal foliots couldn't go invisible in the first place, much less stay invisible despite the pain caused by silver. Heck, it was hurting me and I hadn't touched the damn stuff.

I had to do something, and I realised now what.

Two minutes of evading foliots whilst preparing a tricky spell ( A/Ndo they call it 'spell' in TBT?) later, the foliots became visible to all humans in the vicinity, and I was feeling slightly ill from the effort it took to do such a specialised piece of magic. I'd made the foliots, but not myself, visible to the Resistance, but not innocent bystanders, while also disguising who it was who had cast the spell. Not easy, as even humans should be able to guess

The foliots were no match for their human opponents, so I stopped seriously trying to kill them and watched the Resistance do a mighty good job of taking the demons apart. Soon there were only two left, and they were fleeing (doubtless disobeying orders, since they had stayed this long).

Suddenly, the ground began to shake. Never a good sign, and this was no exception. Cracks were appearing on the earth I was standing on.

I leapt back; the ground erupted upwards and outwards. A creature appeared, roaring.

It was something like an afrit, I didn't know what. Doglike in form, with flames running across its body. It roared, flames flickering out from its mouth.

It somersaulted towards me with startling speed, slamming a claw out at me as it landed, and any sympathy I might have had for it having been trapped underground vanished.

It just missed, gouging into the earth maybe two centimetres from my foot.

I jumped back further, forming a plan of attack as I went, but I forgot it from the shock of what I saw next.

What was clearly a Detonation – magic available to higher-level djinn and anything upwards – flew past my shoulder into the creature's face. I spun in mid air to see who/what had done that.

I had maybe two seconds to regret it,the time between something hitting me very hard from what was now behind me and me connecting just as hard with the ground.I had been thrown around enough to know the impact wouldknock me unconcious, and, sure enough, it did

Mako: (mutters) that was a lame cliffhanger. It's so hard to write about being knocked out in 1st person shouts Find out what happens next in the next exciting instalment of--

Audience: (starts throwing things)

Mako: OK, I'm going… Bye!


	5. Chapter 5

First off, a massive apology to all of you for not updating sooner. Sorry! I've just been so busy lately; exams, friends of the family staying and playing solitaire on the computer and me being ill. Making excuses again…

This chappie is dedicated to Lady Samurai because it's about Nathaniel!

Swordsrock: If you mean the foliots should have a form, they do, but they're invisible. If you mean something else it's been so long since I wrote that chapter that I've forgotten who didn't have a form, sorry. Feel free to correct it again.

Contrarian: None taken.

Lady Samurai: Here ya go!

Well, I hope it was worth the wait!

Nathaniel sat at the desk, reading the first of the inevitable heap of memos that had arrived at his desk overnight. Being the youngest ever minister was an enormous responsibility, and one he did not take lightly; Nathaniel avoided delegating work as much as possible.

Although lately, with him giving more and more of his time to his young (and prodigally quick to learn) apprentice, he had needed to trust more of the work to his assistants.

The memo was about another attack by the New Resistance, or Exercitus Populo as they had made themselves known as. The name bothered Nathaniel. It was meant to bother him, he thought. Why else would they choose a name in Latin? It was one of the ancient languages remembered only by the magicians, the educated upper-class.

And that someone in this new Resistance could speak Latin, be they commoner or magician, was scary. If they knew this, something remembered only in magician's lore, what else did they know?

Not only had they called themselves that, but they'd made the name famous. Graffiti across the city spelled it out. It was written on posters, newspapers, billboards, walls, even on famous statue of magician-heroes, those that the government had taught its people to love.

There had been no outright attacks, however, no destruction of the kind practiced before the Nathaniel's promotion. Those plans must have died with Kitty Jones, making her more of a fool than he'd perceived her to be.

He felt, just for a second, regret at her loss. Then he rationalised it into him wishing she was still around to stop these taunts at the magicians. Every Londoner knew the words Exercitus Populo now, and their meaning. The People's Army. Oh for Kitty Jones and her haphazard destructiveness, getting her nowhere.

He still didn't believe it. Kitty Jones had been quick to get the point, she must have known that her strategy had been getting her nowhere.

The door to his office opened, startling him.

"Knock. Before. You. Enter." He said, in his iciest voice. It didn't have the desired effect on intimidating the intruder.

"Sir, we caught one of them!" Said Merrick, a massive grin spread across his face. Merrick was a new addition to Internal Affairs, an exuberant young man whose upbeat manner annoyed Nathaniel immensely.

Still, good news was good news, whoever brought it.

He got up and wordlessly gestured for Merrick to lead the way.

- The Tower of London -

Stefan looked up at the two men as they entered. Both were dressed in suits, one of them, clearly the senior, wore a tight-fitting affair with a bright red tie; the other, who was wearing much more average clothes, stepped back and looked expectantly at him.

Stefan shrank back as the senior magician - who he recognised as one John Mandrake, a prominent (and incredibly young) magician - examined him, shivering. The man was only his age, but he had an air of authority and, in that moment, Stefan was more sure that this man would kill him he had been of anything else in his life.

-

Nathaniel looked down at the member of the resistance. He had long, blonde, floppy hair and dark eyes that didn't seem to match it. He looked down instead of meeting Nathaniel's stare.

"So. You're in this New Resistance" Nathaniel made his voice sound bored, as if this interview meant nothing to him. Over the years he had perfected this tone, and it came easily.

"A terrorist. An enemy of the state.

"Do you expect us to let you live, terrorist? Why should I? You are no better than anyone our country has fought over the year; you're worse, in fact, because you had more opportunity than they ever did to do the right thing."

Stefan knew the man - to Stefan John Mandrake was a man, a dangerous man who could kill him with a word, not a hormonal teen - was trying to intimidate him. Half of him was crouching on the cell floor terrified, and half of him was watching from a distance, arguing against Mandrake's biased and elitist statements.

The second half couldn't get past the first half's terrified paralysis to argue with Mandrake, to its great annoyance.

"But because this is the great British empire, not some uncivilised" the magician sniffed in disdain "European place, I'll give you another chance, another opportunity to do the right thing"

He leaned closer to Stefan, making Stefan cower back. He cursed his weakness in front of his enemy.

"You must go back to the 'Exercitus Populo'" Stefan bit back hysterical laughter at how much the man sounded like Katy when she was quoting with something she disagreed with.

"You'll go back and go the meetings, keep on with your life as it is. And you'll report to me where and when there will be an attack." He handed Stefan a card with a phone number on.

"A-- And you'll just trust me to tell you the truth?" His voice came out harsh, his throat was dry.

Mandrake glared.

"Lie and you'll pay. I'd say you owe me the truth for letting me go."

He knelt down beside Stefan and pulled out a key, muttering something inaudible. As he unlocked the manacles his hand touched Stefan's arm and Stefan felt an electric shock.

-

A sense of failure followed the group. They'd fought off the foliots, but not before a pair of them had carried Stefan off. Rufus and Ciara had pushed for a rescue mission, and even Lor, Rufus's father, who carried a certain amount of weight in the group for being the oldest, agreed with them despite normally being the polar opposite of his son.

Kitty had considered the idea but, with great regret, opposed it. It would be nothing short of suicide, she said.

I could see the tears in her eyes.

I was tired and confused, two feelings I normally left to humans. I'd been listening to them debating a rescue mission to the Tower of London for the best part of an hour, despite the fact it would be insanely stupid thing to do and end with them all being captured and tortured. I kept quiet because I had other things to ponder. And because I'd forgotten what Kitty's alias was.

Like what cast a Detonation on that odd afrit-like creature, and what had happened to that creature. It had knocked me out easily, so it shouldn't have had a problem with the rest of the Resistance. Quite an enigma.

It was a tired and depressed group that Kitty dismissed, but walking back to the house I felt a strange sense of triumph. They had got used to my presence, and only the girl I'd fought at the start of the day - Ciara - seemed hostile towards me now.

I must be tired. Next I'll be making friends with them and buying them all birthday cards.

-

Kinda sad ending like that, but I have to go out and I wanted to put an update up. I won't make you wait that long again, I promise!

It moved the plot along, and there are loads of hints of things to come, and some NatKittyness, despite me originally not going to make this NatKitty.

Mako


	6. Chapter 6

Spiral Chapter 5.

This is really, really, short. It's just various characters being introspective. Still, I couldn't put half of the next chapter in here because the next chap. really needs to all be together.

---

Stefan could feel his legs shaking as he walked along, and, fearing he would collapse, made his way to a nearby café. A waitress bustled over to him and took his order for hot chocolate with cream and double chocolate cake, looking concerned. She asked if he was feeling alright, and gave him a disbelieving look when he claimed he was fine.

After his reassurances he didn't need any help she nodded, moving away to get his food. He slumped back against the chair, brushing his flaxen hair out of his face with an almost subconscious movement. He felt so dizzy; the shock of the day's event leaving him feeling completely drained. It was still sinking in that he had escaped alive, when he could so easily have died.

He felt better when he'd finished the food he'd ordered – classic comfort food, hot chocolate and cake. The sugar was filling in for the energy he'd spent coping with the confrontation with the magicians.

But there was still a massive problem – what to do now? Now he'd had time to think about it, he rejected out of hand the idea that the magician in charge of the Resistance's capture, the infamous Mandrake, had let him go freely. No. There was almost certainly some kind of tracker on him or something following him.

He wouldn't give in. He'd never go back to his friends if it would mean their deaths.

---

Kitty woke up with the normal mix of depression and tired determination, then remembered the chaos of yesterday. Oh gods. Stefan.

Bartimaeus, standing looking out of the window idly, turned round at Kitty's movement. Kitty looked up at him, rubbing her eyes with an almost feline movement. She mumbled something incomprehensible, blushed slightly, and repeated herself.

"Is there… any chance that Stefan's OK?"

Bartimaeus looked at the floor, unsure over what to say. Kitty knew as well as he did that the chance was next to nothing. He wondered if he should say something comforting, or hug her or something. He wouldn't be able to make her feel better, why should he try?

He turned away, back to watching people pass in the road below him. A few seconds of silence, then he heard her sniff behind him and realised she was crying. He glanced back slightly towards her. Such sentimentality. She was human, after all.

Never mind that she knew there was no chance of saving him, she could not accept that intellectually and she attributed blame for his death to herself. He remembered her rash attempt to rescue her friend from Nathaniel. Such a fatal flaw, the recklessness brought on by love.

"It never gets easier, losing someone to them" Her voice was soft, cracking slightly with emotion. She raised it to a harsh shout:

"Not that you'd understand. You've never cried for anyone!"

She jerked her head to the side and turned away, heading to the only other room n her flat, the bathroom. She slammed the door.

Bartimaeus let himself slide down the wall into a sitting position, pondering the truth of her words. He had fond memories and bad ones, people he liked and ones he despised. None of his feelings for people could be called love.

He could explain it scientifically: djinn do not reproduce sexually, so they do not have the genetic imperative to do so. They don't need to love anyone.

He, inexplicably, felt upset at the thought that he would never understand what lead humans to feel this way about each other.

---

Kitty had regretted the question as soon as it crossed her lips. She had just made a complete idiot of herself, and she knew it. Bartimaeus would probably walk out on her, or just vanish in disgust without even bothering to tell her what a stupid little girl she was being.

Take deep breaths… Calm yourself down.

She splashed water over her face, ran a comb through her hair, gave up on combing it and tied it back, promising herself a shower when she'd talked to Bartimaeus and sorted that out.

She'd lost control of herself, she knew. It wasn't Bartimaeus' fault that Stefan had been captured, and she had no right to shout at him like that. She was just upset.

Would Bartimaeus understand that? He wasn't human, he didn't think like she did.

Whether he would understand or not, she had to apologise. Hopefully he cared enough about the mission of bringing down the magicians he would stay despite her lack of composure.

She wondered if she'd actually hurt his feelings, or just seemed foolish.

Did he care about not being human? Would he be human, given the chance.

_That's irrelevant, Kathleen Jones, go and apologise. _Whenever she told herself off it was in that voice, her mother's voice. She missed her parents, but in the way you miss someone who's been a part of your life for so long that they become part of your habits, not how you miss someone you can't live without.

She smiled at the thought of her mother telling her to apologise to Bartimaeus, the idea of them knowing each other at all. The life she was leading was already completely foreign to her mother, and the fact a demon was staying in her flat would make it immeasurably more so.

_Kathleen, stop procrastinating. _

She smiled, walked out to face Bartimaeus.

Please, forgive me.

We can't do this without you.

Well? Like it? Love it? Hate it?

I only got one review last time, thanks LadySamurai. Please, reviews make me write faster! (pleading look)

That button's all lonely… It wants to be clicked!


	7. Chapter 7

Spiral 7

Yay! Summer holidays for me! I know, all you Americans are already on holiday, but still…

Bit more action in this, and some more of Nathaniel's point of view, specially for Lady Samurai (is there a space in your name? My internet was down while I was typing this so I can't check…)

And, name I called Kitty Katy on purpose. As I mentioned before, Kitty uses a fake name nowadays, even with the Resistance members. I couldn't find anywhere where I could put an explanation of that in the text, but I didn't want anyone to call her Kitty so I called her Katy and hoped everyone would not notice or assume this was Kitty. Sorry, will add explanation next time…

Here you go!

To Nathaniel's great annoyance, the disguised search sphere that had been planted on the captured terrorist had not turned up any new information. In fact, it hadn't turned up any information at all so far. The Resistance member had taken a train to an obscure area under what they assumed was a false name, then stayed at a B+B for a few days before taking another train to an equally remote area, and so on.

Nathaniel kept someone observing him, but made it less of a priority. He had lost hope that the surveillance would turn up any useful information after a few days; the boy had clearly realised what had been done to him, and taken appropriate measures.

What would it be like, to believe so strongly in a cause you would give up everything for it?

In a way, the conviction of the so called Exercitus Populo resembled the commitment Nathaniel had to his country. The only difference was that their conviction was ill-informed. How could commoners rule as well as their enlightened brothers? That was ridiculous.

_But what do we have that they don't?_

_The demons…but how does control of them make us enlightened?_

He shook his head. Such thoughts were on a par with treason. If he were a commoner, saying them would land him in the tower, or at the least, a re-education facility.

What was wrong with him nowadays? His mind was full of thoughts of treason, and he couldn't stop himself from brooding on the words of the commoner Kitty Jones, though she had died nearly three years ago.

It was her voice he could hear in his head, challenging the views he'd been taught since infancy. If she were still alive, she'd mock him for his indecision, for his confusion over simple issues.

Magicians alone had the right to rule, that was common knowledge.

_Just keep telling yourself that…_

The mood of the Resistance had not yet recovered from the depression brought by Stefan's disappearance, although the group was back to work and running as normal on the surface.

Bartimaeus had got to know the other members of the cell run personally by Kitty (there were, he had learned, four other cells, all founded by Kitty, who had relegated command of them once she deemed them ready), and achieved at least an uneasy truce with.

Oddly, the person who now trusted him most was the girl who had originally attacked him, Ciara. Most of the other members of the group had known each other for a long time, or had at least one person they knew well. Ciara had come from Prague at the advice of Kitty's friend Jacob (whom Bartimaeus remembered as weedy and irritating) and had not got any friends in London, possibly due to her tendency to switch between extremes of emotion without warning.

The others opinions of him ranged from a wary trust to a fragile truce, although there had been only one attack on him other than Ciara's: Rufus, a somewhat pompous man in his forties, had lunged at him, mistakenly thinking he was going to attack Lor, his son.

Of the Resistance members, Lor and Rufus annoyed Bartimaeus the most. They shared a tendency to disregard any opinion that differed from their own and an unshakable belief that they knew best. Both were useful – Rufus was rich and had access to the prestigious Bodleian library in Oxford, as well as owning a countryside villa and several houses across the country. Lor, a college student, was intelligent and fiercely opinionated, traits which had, inexplicably, made him very influential with the student community. He was responsible for at least half of the recruitments since he had joined.

Bartimaeus was with them now, on a mission. Actually, he was high circling above them in the shape of a pigeon, watching for watchers. He was bored. Very bored.

He knew perfectly well how useful he was as a lookout, and that he would be completely useless as a recruiter himself (having a predisposition towards sarcasm that didn't make him any friends in the human community. Or any community, come to think of it) but it didn't stop him thinking that this work was better suited to foliots or imps.

He'd have another go at persuading Kitty to summon a foliot for this tomorrow. It wouldn't work, though.

Kitty had put her foot down about summoning another spirit for lookout. It would make her no better than a magician, unless the spirit would help freely.

Such was the principle she had devised for herself: the use of summoning is not in itself evil; merely the misuse of it to force a spirit to do one's bidding.

She and Lor had written what Lor called a treatise on this. Rather, she had said what she wanted to say, and he had converted it into what she called posh-talk, mocking both his educated airs and her common-ness.

They'd published it in a student magazine, under a pseudonym. Kitty doubted anyone who would read it knew enough about the magician's craft to appreciate it; she resolved to write it more to outline morals for herself and her group than to make anyone agree with them.

Still, it was something to do. Stress, augmented by the pressure of keeping Bartimaeus on earth, made her tired and listless, and she'd opted out of going on a mission today. She'd slept as soon as she'd returned from the meeting, and just woken.

They would be returning from their assignments soon. Kev, Lyle and Luke had been "advertising" – graffiti-ing 'Exercitus Populo' messages, and Lor had been heading a student meeting in a café, accompanied by Rufus and Bartimaeus.

She smiled at that. Bartimaeus was a demon, and Lor and Rufus disagreed with demons. Bartimaeus returned that disagreement in the form of superior sarcasm. Still, Rufus and Lor's attitudes had ceased to be serious animosity, more irritation with something they didn't like, but had no power to change.

Lyle came running into the pub, pushing past the tables with no regard for others. Someone behind her swore as she knocked his glass off the table, spilling beer across the floor. She pushed past a young man who was on his feet, heading unsteadily to the bathroom.

She reached her destination: grabbed the handsome young man leaning back on his chair, his hand still gesturing although he'd fallen silent at her arrival. Correctly interpreting the alarm on her face, he got up, waving an apology to the group listening to him.

They left hastily, the man holding her back, murmuring something she knew about not announcing their nervousness, acting natural.

"Kev, he's… knocked out, I think." Her voice stayed low, but the strain in it was audible.

Kev was slumped across the filthy floor of the alleyway, something crouching over him.

It was a big cat, _a panther?_ thought Lyle.

Irrelevant. It was a demon, of course.

They thing looked up at them, moved its graceful paw off Kev's limp body, as if relinquishing possession. For a split second it looked as if it was grinning.

Then it leaped, straight towards Lyle. Her companion, with lightning reactions, pulled his hand out of his pocket and threw something. The demon roared; Lyle leapt sideways, trying to pull her knife out of her jacket. It caught against the fabric.

The demon landed inches away from her, hissing in anger. It hissed, reared up; the man shoved her aside just as something flew out of its mouth and exploded against the wall behind where she had been. He threw another knife, and another; the demon screamed a very human cry of pain.

She got her knife free, held it in front of her. Wished she'd paid attention to Kev's lessons of fighting with it. Still, it was silver. Maybe that was enough.

The demon backed up, then changed. An eagle flew away into the sky. Lyle leaned against the wall, shaking. She slid down it, clutching her jacket to her.

The man with her asked if she was hurt, and she shook her head no.

"Just a bit shaken, I'll be OK in a minute. Really. Luke, I'm fine. Let's just get Kev home."

Luke picked Kev up, staggering under the bigger man's weight. Lyle got up, flitting around as if wanting to help. They made their slow way home, taking back routes so as not to attract attention.

Nathaniel punished the djinni when she returned, furious at her failure to capture even one of the Exercitus Populo terrorists when she'd had three of them trapped in one place. She'd retreated from an idiotic commoner throwing silver. Cowardly.

They'd blown every chance on this case, right from the start. He wished he'd never given that order to capture only. Still, pride kept him from taking it back, especially after how vehemently he had given it. He had managed to convince himself it was strategy: taking one alive would lead them to the rest.

And it had worked in the end with the New Resistance.

But before that, he had been so tempted to repeal it, and he was returning to that desperation now. They needed evidence they were winning against the threat, and there was none.

Because, when it came down to it… they weren't

At least they had the descriptions his djinni, Sephra, had given. None of them looked like Kitty Jones, he realised. He felt half glad, half disappointed. When the djinni had mentioned a girl, his heart had leaped.

_How inane of you_, he told himself. _There's more than one commoner girl in London_.

What was wrong with him? His curiosity about Kitty Jones was practically an obsession…

He couldn't concentrate on work. He dismissed Sephra (rudely; demons didn't require courtesy, after all) and slumped in his chair, eyes half closed.

There was a knock on the door.

That's it folks? It's a cliff-hanger - or is it? It could just be his personal waiter bringing him his tea!

This chapter is proof that I have decided to make it a Nat/Kitty – it works so well with the storyline I'm thinking up. Does it work?

Also, we see quite a lot of the rest of Kitty's Resistance gang here. What do you think? I want them to have their own personalities and not just be a faceless mob of Kitty's supporters, but I don't want a load of Mary Sue-ish people to be killed off at the next opportunity.

Hopefully I'll update again before I go on holiday, if not, sorry but you'll have quite a wait – I'm going away for nearly a month.


	8. Chapter 8

Several months and a new computer later, Mako is back with an update!

Someone pointed out my breaks between sections aren't there, hopefully they will be now. FF net formatting is evil.

--

Lyle and Luke retreated to Kitty's flat, Kev in tow. It wasn't good for security – they didn't want to be seen at each others' houses by neighbours, who could report to the magicians – but they were drawing too much attention by hauling an unconscious man across town, and Kitty lived closest to the site of the accident.

Kev slumped in Kitty's armchair, the only chair in the room. The other two sat on the floor, and Kitty sat on her bed, leaning forward as she listened intently to Luke's terse account of the events.

"It was almost certainly a djinni. The government must be staking out spots we've been seen in before." She frowned, concentrating, then seemed to come to a conclusion. When she spoke it was quickly, decisively.

"We'll stay in one group when we're on mission from now on. I'll inform the secondary groups. No point taking risks, if we have to fight it'd be best to be together, and they'll be looking for smaller groups. You two go home, I'll look after Kev here. The others will notify me when they get back and we'll call a meeting then."

Kitty waved them out of the door, waiting until it was shut before relaxing from her commanding pose. You had to look in control, after all. No matter Kev could easily have been killed by the djinni, or captured. Look like a leader, Kitty.

God, they could so easily have been captured.

But that was the risk they took, had always been the risk.

They needed a new strategy. They had new resources – the secret name of John Mandrake, and Bartimaeus' support.

They needed a new plan…

--

Nathaniel waved his hand in a signal, and the foliot door-guard opened the door to his office. A man entered, rushing in his excitement.

Nathaniel surveyed him coldly.

Myron DiMira, a lackey. Black guy with an afro. Laconic. Intelligent. He missed out on promotion for the solely because he was not at all good at formalities and had a disregard for rules that would have been unacceptable in one less brilliant.

His family owned a restraunt, and he blatantly broke regulations by going to visit them every week, Nathaniel remembered. The discovery of this had seen him sent to do drudge work. He was somewhat irritating, having a naturally loud voice and a flamboyant, arrogant manner of speaking.

His face was flushed from running, and he had been grinning (somewhat manically, Nathaniel thought) before he noticed his superior's disdain. He looked exhausted, but any weariness was pushed back by the importance of whatever news he had to bring.

Nathaniel eyed him for a few seconds longer, unnerving the man (trying to, at least; DiMira's face was blank in an attitude of subservience). He doubtless thought his news was important, but he needed remember his place. His enthusiasm had no place in an office of the government.

"You may give your report, Mr DiMira."

The man tried, with an edge that could have been subtle sarcasm, to give his voice the icy precision of Mandrake's.

"I am with the team that has been monitoring the Search Sphere tracking the Resistance member, sir

"Yesterday the, uh, quarry, met a – we presume – friend of his. This friend called him by the name 'Stefan', and his reaction showed this was information he didn't want revealed. We presume, then, that this is his true name."

"I don't need your opinions or analysis; where was he when this happened?" Nathaniel didn't disguise his irritation at the man.

"Uh, On the Chiltern Railway. Heading to Oxfordshire. Sir."

"Good. Send a team out to track him. Don't bother with trying to retrieve him yet; I'll send a djinni to help with that. Don't want the operation being botched up now, do we?"

Myron thought to himself what he would like to say: that it was _your _plan and _your _fault that it went wrong, you pompous brat. But his job was worth more than a chance at Mandrake, for the moment.

For the moment…

--

The Exercitus Populo's leaders had congregated in Hyde Park as the sun set. Kitty watched her lieutenants as they digested the news of the djinni's attack and the inferences her team had made: most seemed nervous - more openly so here, without their respective groups looking to them for advice, than they would have been normally.

That was good. Hiding your emotions wasn't something you could do 24/7. She had done for years, and she knew how hard it was.

Until Bartimaeus had joined the group.

She had come to confide in him. It had started when he'd kidnapped her (at Mandrake's request – he'd never have that power over her again) and then again when she'd summoned him for the first time (she winced at the memory of her hysteria; he'd seen the worst of her).

Now it wasn't that she was telling him her deepest thoughts, just that she was telling him her doubts about whatever plans or schemes the EP were dreaming up. She discussed strategy with the other Cell Leaders, all right, but it was with Bartimaeus she was frank about her doubts – she didn't have to act like she was in command - the trusted leader – with him.

It was a relief just to be able to talk, and as annoying, pedantic and amoral as Bartimaeus could be, he was approachable, frank, and honest; he had, in other words, the qualities of a confidant.

Oh, yeah, the meeting.

The Leaders had had enough time to talk, and Kitty sat up and forward, a gesture which gained the attention of her lieutenants immediately.

"Everyone is clear on the situation?"

Nods, murmurs of assent.

"And you're happy with my strategy for dealing with it? – It's temporary, remember."

She looked directly at Sane as she asked – Sane, whose name was an alias, had looked distinctly unconvinced when she'd told them what she'd decided to do (each cell to stay in one group for operations). He was the most difficult of the leaders; a homeless man who had been in a gang, and had, Kitty was pretty sure, been involved in crime, he was often uncomfortable with having to defer to Kitty's leadership. Still, he and his group, which was composed of his homeless contacts, were very useful.

She could afford to give him a bit of leeway, so long as he stayed respectful. His group, unlike the others, could easily survive outside her command.

Sure enough, he spoke up.

"I reckon we're more obvious as one group – too many different people who shouldn't go round together normally"

"You have a point, but they're looking for pairs and threes"

"Not with my lot. They're not looking for us at all. We'd stand out more; tell them what you're doing"

She considered it. He was right this time, or at least not wrong.

"Your call, Sane"

Myra, another leader, called out a warning. Two magicians were heading their direction. No, Kitty thought, they were just off course, not heading towards the group, but close enough to overhear the conversation. Still, better safe that sorry.

"I heard Liss's kid was due, My'," she asked "what's up with that?"

Myra murmured that it was looking to be late, and that Liss had gone in for a check-up yesterday.

The story had been decided on as a conversation changer earlier, and was true – Myra did have a sister, Liss, with a child due. It was one of several strategies to throw listeners off track: a conversation begun that was would sound real to listeners and did not take much arranging.

It was far from infallible, but still. It worked.

The magicians passed by, not sparing a second glance for the motley group of commoners sprawled on the grass.

Better safe than sorry.

--

Stefan, meanwhile, was feeling very sorry.

He'd been recognised, despite dyed hair and glasses, by a former friend, who'd addressed him by the name he was trying so hard not to reveal. He'd managed to convince the friend he wasn't Stefan, but the damage was done. That was the name he used with the EP, and he dreaded to think what the magicians could do with the knowledge.

He'd headed to Oxford because he'd lived there as a boy, and thus knew the area, but there wasn't likely to be anyone who recognised him, nearly ten years later.

So he'd thought. But then Michael, the former friend, had known him from their time at Uni (Sheffield), not from when he'd lived in Oxford. Who would see the nondescript twelve year old boy in an student with a lank blonde mane concealing his features and strikingly dark brown eyes - contacts.

He'd get work, lodge somewhere, and wait until it was safe.

That had been the plan. Now, walking down Cornmarket street, he was sure there was someone following him. A gothic looking girl, seen in the corner of his eye.

The Goth wouldn't bother him if he couldn't see past the form. It was a demon.

He'd stayed on the move for an hour, hoping against hope it would lose interest. It had followed him everywhere, or stood outside waiting for him to return.

He shuddered. How long could he stay in a safe area? When the shops shut, when it got dark, when people went home, he would have nowhere to go.

He'd have to face the thing.

Have to fight.

He had a silver knife, but he'd never used it. He'd been the scout, looking out for trouble, not the warrior who dealt with whatever he spotted.

Keeping one hand on the knife in his pocket, he paused, looking towards a poster on the wall, attention focused on the movement in his peripheral vision. His trail circled around, keeping a crowd between itself and Stefan.

_It can't know that I can see its true form, _he thought, _or it wouldn't take so much care staying back. _The demon, in its true form, stood maybe a head and a half taller than the average human.

_What use is seeing it as it is? _He wondered. Apart from it being easy to spot in a crowd, not much.

He moved on from the poster, heading the way he had been going before his pause. The year (_it seems like far more_) that he'd spent with the Exercitus Populo had taught him a lot about what to do when being followed – never go home, stay in public, and never, ever, let it show that you know you're being followed.

He entered a café – it was dusk and the place was packed with diner. He picked up a menu, and, realising uninterestedly it was a pizzeria, chose a Margarita. He hadn't got that much money left, but he didn't dare use a credit card or withdraw money.

Would it matter? He had been compromised already.

_Stefan, focus on surviving, day by day. Plan for tonight, now._

He could go to a bed and breakfast, a hotel. That would do for tonight.

Get a room on ground floor, then the demon (always assume the worst: that they can fly and get through any normal security and get you out the same way) can't drag you out so easily.

Try and make sure you can make a scene if anything happens. Get a room near other people.

A waitress placed a plate of food in front of him. He thanked her and dug in, realising how hungry he was.

It wasn't over yet. He could still make it.

The figure of the demon shifted uneasily in the corner of his eye…

--

Kitty and Bartimaeus sat in Kitty's flat, the former in her armchair nursing a cup of coffee and the later, in Ptolemy's form, listening to her from where he was sprawled on the floor.

"So we could tell him we've got contacts in the Sun and we could print his birthname on the front page… would that work, d'ja think?"

Bartimaeus smirked at "contacts in the Sun", and looked up at her, considering it.

"He might have enough power to veto it; stop that edition of the Sun being printed…"

"We're not really going to publish it in the Sun" Kitty said, a touch irritation, maybe even scorn, in her voice "No-one would believe it in the Sun, besides, no magicians would read it"

Bartimaeus muttered something acerbic about Kitty's overestimation of magician's tastes, but they both knew it was just him covering for his slip in not realising the commoner's plan. Kitty explained the real plan.

"We'll get Lor to publish it in that student rag of his: the magicians can't censor it then, how will they know what we're printing. Besides, even if they did catch it, everyone involved in printing it would know 'Natty's' name, so would all the people sent us. Win-win.

"Also, we'll put it on the internet. Kami from Myra's lot knows all about computers and stuff; she'll get it on the internet for us."

Neither of the pair knew anything about the internet – which was still a very new thing, due to the magicians' dominion of society and said groups unwillingness to do by technology something they could monopolise with magic – but it had gained an almost mythical status with covert groups such as theirs. Kitty had been convinced to buy two computers with dial-up and Kami was writing a program to send email between the two.

This illegal method of communication was said (by Kami, at least) to be totally untraceable, quick, and couldn't be bugged by anyone, not even demons (a fact confirmed by Bartimaeus).

The disadvantage was that if they were caught with such technology, they would be sent to the Tower…

But then, that danger meant little to people whose lives would be forfeit if their identities were ever found out by the state.

Bartimaeus's thought less of the fabled internet than the humans, and he just shrugged at this.

"Have you thought how you'll get the message to him? He's not going to be easy to intimidate, you know

"And no, I won't send the message for you. As I said, I don't want my name mentioned."

They had agreed not to mention Bartimaeus, as Mandrake would be more intimidated if he didn't know their sources, and Bartimaeus would be safer if he was kept out of it. The ancient djinni had joined Kitty's cause, but wasn't prepared to gamble more than necessary on it. He was the only one of them who could walk out of it freely (_at the moment, in any case) _and wasn't about to give up that security.

"We'll… phone him. Ask him to meet us somewhere: _'Nathaniel… I know who you are… come to us, Nathaniel'_"She dropped the mock-freaky voice and turned serious again, talking to herself more than to him: "Don't threaten him, knowing his name is threatening enough… don't engage in conversation, just say a time and a place and call him by that name."

There was silence for a moment as they both imagined the conversation. Bartimaeus spoke first.

"Good plan, at least compared to what you people normally come up with." He shifted position on the floor and smirked as he watched Kitty decide how to react. She was less temperamental than the average magician – a good thing in someone who could force you to do their will, allied or not - but had none of their experience in dealing with spirits such as he. Therefore, blatantly magical/demonic traits of his threw her, and referring to the human race in the third person worked a treat.

For all her human/spirit alliance plans, he knew she would be very disturbed to see him in his true form, and although she and the other EP (they all used the abbreviation, Exercitus Populo being too long and New Resistance being dropped by Kitty due to her unease at them sharing the name of the ill-fated group) had got used to talking to him in various animal forms, they were awkward about it.

Kitty decided to ignore the slight and move on the conversation, but again Bartimaeus spoke first.

"Who's going to call Natty?"

Kitty hadn't considered it, but she, as was her custom, thought aloud:

"He's talked to me before, so I'm out; we want someone self-confident – Lor would be good, or Ciara…"

"You should call." Bartimaeus sounded uncharacteristically certain; although he was self-confident, even arrogant, he tended not to speak in absolutes like that.

"He knows you enough to think he can recognise your voice, but not well enough to be sure it's you. He'll be freaked, really freaked, but he won't be certain. He'll have to come to the meeting and see if it is you."

He was grinning at the perfection of the plan. Kitty thought it over, looking sceptical. She did see the merit of the idea, but years of having the final say on plans had taught her caution.

Finally, she nodded.

"We'll do it. I'll tell them at the meeting tomorrow."

--

Up in Westminster, Nathaniel addressed Sephra.

"This is your chance to redeem yourself. Do not fail me."

The djinni nodded, sullen attitude brightening at the chance to get out. She faded from view, slowly.

Nathaniel watched coolly as the last wisps of… colour, light or whatever the djinni had left behind… dispersed.

She was arrogant, sullen and thoroughly distasteful. Not to mention the forms she took, tauntingly reminiscent of people he knew: the face that looked, oh so subtly, like that of the commoner Kitty Jones; the mannerisms that echoed his long-lost teacher Mrs Lutyens, or his surrogate mother Mrs Underwood.

It was rude and offensive (_and disturbing… _he thought, not that she'd get the satisfaction of knowing it. She'd have to go.

After she'd completed her mission.

Recapturing the commoner Stefan.


	9. Author's Note!

Sorry to make everyone think I'd got off my lazy backside and updated, but I have to ask everyone reading this something:

From now on, this fic will have **spoilers** for **Ptolemy's Gate. **

Before I post any chapters with spoilers, I wanted to know:

One – is Ptolemy's Gate out in the US

Two – How many people reading this have read it.

So anyone who could and tell me either of those things, please let me know (either review and say or email me - my email is on my profile)

--

Note on how Spiral's plot relates to that of Ptolemy's Gate. Spoiler-free!

Spiral, obviously, is AU after The Golem's Eye. However, not all characters have been greatly affected by the AU-ness – although the government has been affected by the EP/NR, their motives have not changed, and therefore they will continue to act in much the same way.

Nathaniel's part in their actions, however, will be significantly different. Kitty's actions, also, will be totally changed, for obvious reasons.

However, there will be enough parts of the PG plot intact for me to need to mark spoilers.

--

Thanks,

Mako


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